


Quiet

by EmiAliceinWonderland



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 23:38:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7778122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiAliceinWonderland/pseuds/EmiAliceinWonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 3 Pynch Week Prompt ~ Lonely Nights ~</p><p>Ronan hates these nights. Ronan loves these nights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short piece of...you guessed it, MORE RONAN INTROSPECTION. Enjoy! Comments would be lovely ^_^

 

Ronan hates these nights. The nights that seem to last so much longer than the day ever does. How can twelve hours seem so much longer in the darkness? Anxiety is gnawing at his stomach, dangerous dreams snaking through his mind everytime he closes his eyes. He can't sleep when he feels like this. No matter how exhausted he is, he knows he can't sleep when he's in this state of mind. Nothing but bad things will come of it.

He looks down at the floor next to his bed, and feels angry tears prick at his eyes as he stares at the one, two, three, four epipens lying there.

He feels useless, and chaotic, and too strange and dangerous and unpredictable to be alive on nights like these. Most of all he feels unbearably lonely.

\---   
Ronan loves these nights. The nights that seem to prove the fact that time really does fly faster, as fast as Chainsaw riding a slipstream in the air, when you're happy and content. How can twelve hours seem to pass so easily when he's next to Adam Parrish? Love is warm in his heart, whispered confessions that he's not quite ready to say out loud yet drifting through his mind everytime he closes his eyes. He doesn't want to sleep when he feels like this. No matter how tired he is, this reality is somehow, inexplicably, better than any lovely dream thing Ronan could imagine.

He feels quiet.

Inside, he feels quiet, and content, and the opposite of lonely. Full. He feels tears of raw emotion gather in his eyes as he remembers the countless awful, tortuous nights laying in bed alone at Monmouth, thinking of his dad, of wasps and hornets, of demons and dead bodies.

He feels so different. He feels like the old Ronan.

He reaches out and brushes a finger across Adam's lax hand on the sheet next to him. The other is fast asleep.

Ronan's heart stutters; Adam is smiling in his sleep.


End file.
